It's Classy, Not Classic.

It was when I was looking myself over in the mirror the next morning in my underwear after having a shower that I noticed the bruises on my hips, evidently left from Franks fingertips pressing into the bone, his own hips crushing against them. How stupid was I to think I'd leave love making without some sort of sex bruise. I suppose Frank was stronger then he appeared, because these bruises were large and dark. If I remember hard enough, I could almost remember the feeling of the pads of his fingers pressing into my hips, irritating the bone and leaving multiple contusions that would form one large dark spot on either of my hips. To go along with that, I also still had that hickey -- or, I'm sorry, "hair straightener burn" -- on the upper left side of my neck. Frank, Frank, Frank.
I was sitting near the front door on the floor, tying up my sneakers when I heard someone honk from outside, which instantly made me quickly finish tying up my shoe and hop to me feet, because evidently it was Frank. I slipped out of the house, locking it behind me since my father was at work a while ago, and shoved the key back into my pocket, smiling at Frank while I walked across my lawn toward his car, bag slung over one of my shoulders. I slid into the car, shutting the door behind me, and he smiled, leaning over and placing a kiss on my forehead before pressing a kiss to my lips. "Skip?" He inquired simply and I rolled my eyes, because it was to be expected from Frank.
"Frank, it's my first year and the year has barely even started. I have to attend some days, you know?" I replied, laughing quietly at him and he gave an exaggerrated sigh and pressed another kiss to my lips, harder then the other one, more pressure. When he pulled away he smiled weakly, "I can't skip school every day to have sex with you." I giggled quietly and he rolled his eyes right back at me before his infamous smirk formed on his lips.
"You can some days, though." He joked and I giggled and pushed him away. He sat back in his seat properly, taking the car out of park and driving off down the road towards the school, which was only a few blocks away.
When we reached the school, he parked in the parking lot and I sighed, getting a curious look from him and responding with a tiny, crooked smile, as if to tell him nothing was wrong. To be honest, I was still thinking about what my father had said at dinner last night. It really got to me, as it seems. It made me question if I should introduce my father to Frank, and wether I should introduce him as my friend, or my boyfriend. I didn't even know if Frank was my boyfriend. We had sex, twice, sure, but that doesn't mean we're together. There was never any official saying that we were together. I was snapped out of my daze when Frank squeezed my hand, leaning over and pressing multiple kisses to the side of my face, basically snuggling his face into the side of mine. I scrunched up my features and giggled before someone knocked on the window lightly and we both looked to see who it was. A boy with longer black hair stood there, a crooked smile appearing on his face. I took a swift glance at Frank before opening the door and stepping out. Frank got out of the car too and came around, greeting the boy, who assumed was his friend. They spoke for a second before Frank turned to me, smiling, "Go on inside to class, or else you'll be late. You can't risk being late, niney." He teased, and I rolled my eyes, giving a small laugh, "I'll be inside in a few minutes. Just take my seat at the back where I usually sit." He told me, hesitating for a moment before quickly placing a gentle peck on my lips. I just nodded, giving a small smile before walking on past him to make my way inside the school, his voice and the boys disappearing with distance, and I had a feeling they were talking about me.
I walked into English class and hesitated for a moment, eyeing the group of kids near the back that were talking and briefly glanced at me, urging my feet and shuffling to the back of the classroom, taking Franks usual seat at the back that was one away from the corner. Conveniently placed beside me was said group of kids, and they eyed me right back, mimicing what I'd done to them just seconds earlier. I sat there for a while, my bag down beside my chair on the opposite side of the kids -- because honestly, who knows if they pick pocket? They look ... scary. Not to mention they were incredibley intimidating like Frank used to be. Frank, evidently, wasn't that intimidating anymore. "Thats Franks spot, kid." One of the guys mumbled to me, and I glanced over at the person who'd spoken, a boy with dark brown hair, shaggy and falling in his eyes, covering his eyes slightly, and pale skin. Fingernails painted black like my own, and dressed similiarly to how Frank dressed, although I seemed to prefer Franks specific style of dress.
"It's a seat, get over it." Franks voice rejoindered out of nowhere somewhere behind me, and I wasn't spooked by it, but my gaze darted back at Frank automatically to see him shuffling down the aisle, flashing me a smile and slipping into the corner seat beside me. He dropped his bag to the floor beside his seat and one of his hands reached out and gently grabbed my chin, molding his lips with mine right infront of the group of kids who obviously felt like I didn't belong here at all. They didn't want me here, and now Frank was kissing me. I was glad the teacher wasn't here. I felt all of the eyes from the group beside us burning a hole into me specifically, watching Frank press his lips to mine like it were some phenomenon -- like a star was dying and it fucking exploded into a black hole. Now, I'm no rocket scientist, clearly, but the contact of mine and Franks lips didn't even compare to the death of a star. Why did Frank feel the need to kiss me right infront of them though? I'm totally going to be kicked down into the dirt by those kids even more now.
Our lips seperated after a few seconds, a few seconds that felt like forever, and Frank gave me an innocent smile before his gaze turned to the group behind me, smirking slightly at them in a spiteful way, as if he were rubbing something in, and giving a slight laugh under his breath -- because really, their faces were probably priceless, so I suppose I couldn't blame him. The teacher came in then, and Frank pulled away and sat back in his seat normally for class to start, but not without shooting the group of kids another one of his smirks
When we were working on an in class assignment that Mr. Dunne had handed out, Frank leaned over when the teacher wasn't looking, his lips to my ear, a smirk playing at them once again, "That mark I left on your necks starting to fade," He whispered, a seductive feel to his voice, and I already blushed slightly, because he'd been watching me this whole time, "Remind me to fix that at lunch."